Small World
by xXPandoraRisingXx
Summary: Trevor x OC. A young woman's already very complicated and disturbed life gets much more disturbing when she gets tangled up with someone she really shouldn't. What's the worst that could happen? Takes place after the ending of GTA V so if you haven't finished yet just a warning.
1. Chapter 1

**Small World - Chapter 1 -**

A/N: I will do the first chapter and see how you guys like it and if it is pretty popular I'll do more :)

* * *

Nora took a long drag on her cigarette, slowly exhaling the smoke through her nose and wiping the grit from her eyes. It was hot as hell out here in the desert and she felt the unpleasant clamminess of sweat and more grit between her breasts. She longed to take a long, hot shower and wash it all away:

Problem was; she had no shower.

All she had was the clothes on her back and an empty, crumpled cigarette box in her pants pocket.

The events from two hours ago ran through her head like a long forgotten movie, vague and surreal, only parts of it coming through. The fight with her boyfriend who also happened to be her dealer who had called her a cunt and backhanded her to the street. He was some Vagos prick who she had only been with for the steady flow of whatever drug she needed in exchange for sex.

Or that was what it had felt like to her at least.

He had started spouting off at her about how he was in love with her and she needed to make something more of herself or some shit. She had laughed in his face in front of his crew and that had been when he had hit her.

The scab above her left eyebrow had started to itch already where one of his rings had caught her. He had tried to apologize afterwards and she had laughed at him even then.

"You're just a gang banger piece of shit and you're telling me what I should be doing with my fucking life?"

She had something like that before she had left him, looking uncertain of whether he should try to stop her. He hadn't.

That was why she was here standing in front of a 24/7 about to shoplift some cigarettes and decide what came next.

With a sigh she dropped her cigarette to the ground and stamped it out before tucking her cap down a little lower over her eyes and walking inside. The chill air was a welcome relief and she caught the eye of some redneck asshole staring at her nipples through the sheer material of her wife beater.

"Why don't you take a fucking picture if you've ever even heard of a camera you shit," she snarled at him, not in the mood for letting it slide off this time.

His eyes widened fractionally at her outburst and he suddenly decided he was done shopping as he scurried by her. She spotted boxes next to the counter with the name 'Redwood' across the front. Just what she was looking for.

The clerk was stocking porno mags out of a box onto the shelves behind the counter, his back to her. Perfect. She had stolen shit a hundred times without anyone noticing.

Today would be no different.

She casually sauntered over, pretending to pick up a candy bar and put it back as though she were more interested in a soda instead. When she was certain he wasn't looking she pocketed three boxes of Redwoods and slowly turned to leave not wanting to move too quickly and draw attention.

"You gonna pay for those?"

Shit.

"Pay for what?" How the hell had he even seen her?

He stood and turned to face her a look of disapproval on his face. "Don't play stupid; it insults both of our intelligence."

"Just put the cigarettes back and I won't call the cops."

Anger took over as she whirled on him. "Look, I am having a _really bad day_. Just let me have the fucking cigarettes. What do you care if you were short a few boxes from your last shipment?"

"Nice try. Now give them back."

She reached around behind her back and the clerk reached under the counter. She was of course bluffing but was he? Probably not. It was so isolated out here it took the cops a fair amount of time to respond and it would only make sense for store owners to arm themselves.

"Just let me have the fucking things. I don't want to hurt you," she threatened, but even she could hear the lack of conviction in her voice.

"M'am, please don't do anything that we'll both regret."

The two of them stood stock still glaring at one another, neither daring to move.

Several tense moments went by when suddenly the door was roughly shoved open with a loud tinkle from the bell. Both woman and clerk were momentarily agape staring at this new arrival.

A man staggered in wearing stained briefs and nothing else glancing back and forth between the two of them, narrowing his eyes, taking in the scene. Wordlessly, he walked past Nora, past the clerk and behind the counter where he began examining the porno magazines the clerk had been stocking, tossing a few carelessly on the floor before selecting one that apparently interested him.

He tossed a five dollar bill on the counter and walked back out. Nora took her chance and ran out after him before the door could close. She could heard the clerk cursing after her.

The naked guy was climbing into a pickup and a wild idea struck her as she ran after him.

_This is really fucking dumb, _she thought.

She climbed into the back and lay down getting out of sight before the clerk could spot her. She didn't think the guy driving the pickup had seen her either; he was clearly really drunk or really high and not paying attention. Either way she was just going to have to take her chances.

She knew this was Lost territory and she didn't want to get caught out late by the bikers while they were all meth'd up and looking for fun.

She risked a peek at the convenience store over the top of the truck bed. She didn't see anyone as the truck started forward she allowed herself a moment to relax and let her head fall back to the hot metal with a gentle clank.

It couldn't have been more than five minutes of driving before they stopped with a sudden lurch and she had to muffle a cry when her head hit the cab painfully when she slid forward unable to stop herself.

She heard the truck door opening and then slamming shut. After she heard the sound of footsteps receding into the distance she got onto her hands and knees watching cautiously, staying low.

She was outside a horribly rundown trailer and the smell of piss was overwhelmingly unbearable in this heat. The man disappeared inside mumbling unintelligibly to himself.

For once, she didn't feel so bad about her own life.

She dropped, cat-like, over the side into the dust crouching low listening hard.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when the door to the trailer banged open, explosively, followed by a profanity laced shout. Crawling forward, she could see that he had gotten dressed in an equally stained ensemble of a possibly once white t-shirt and blue jeans.

He was on the phone and he was very very angry with someone.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Ron! I told you if the buyer came by to let me know _immediately."_

_"No, _that doesn't make a fucking difference! Better yet where are you right now? Alright, I'll be right there. _Don't fucking move unless I expressly tell you how and when, got it?"_

She rolled into the weeds out of sight until he was gone and the sound of his truck no more than a distant rumble. She lit up one of her newly 'acquired' cigarettes and decided that if she were going to live dangerously today there was no need to stop now.

_Yep I'm really fucking dumb today._

Making sure that no one was watching she ran across the road and checked to see if the trailer door was unlocked.

It was.

With one last glance around to make sure that the crazy guy wasn't coming back she slipped inside. Time for that shower before hitting the road.

"Goddamn," she muttered seeing the disaster area unfolding before her as her eyes adjusted to the dim interior.

Garbage and moldy leftovers covered nearly every surface and the smell was even worse than it had been outside. It wasn't like she hadn't been in similar if not worse circumstances in the past. Nora shrugged out of her overshirt and quickly yanked off her tank top taking her clothes into the shower with her to wash them out as well.

The hot water felt so good running over her body rinsing away all of the grime from the past weeks as she turned and stretched into the flow. With the water running into her eyes she felt around for soap blindly. Her fingers closed around it and she began to lather her scalp until her short trimmed hair stood on end from the suds.

She frowned as her fingers slid over the scar under her right breast remembering how she had gotten it. She didn't actually remember being shot just the adrenaline rush that followed and how she had finally fainted from blood loss. An involuntary jolt shot through her at the unwanted memory.

"Shit," she grunted.

The soap had slid out of her fingers.

"Here you go," said a low, raspy voice.

Her eyes flew open, the soap stinging them, but she hardly noticed because at some point the man had came back and was extending the bar of soap to her not even bothering to hide that he was taking in her nakedness.

"Hey, go ahead, I don't mind. _Really_."

"How long have you been standing there?" she blurted, shock overwhelming her.

_What the hell? How had she not heard him come back?_

"You're bleeding," he commented, ignoring her question.

She reached up and touched her forehead above her eyebrow and her fingertips came away red; the warm water must have opened up the scabs.

"Looks infected. Should get that looked at."

"What.. why aren't you calling the cops or.. or something" Her tongue felt heavy and strange and she didn't know what to say. The dreadful feeling of getting caught was fogging her mind.

"Way I see it if I come home to a naked woman in my shower instead of someone who wants to kill me I'm having a _reeal _hard time finding a fault in that"

This was too much; she needed to leave. She hurried past him dropping her clothes on the floor in the process, her arms feeling like two lead weights. She quickly bent to pick them up and began disentangling her pants legs.

"Mmmm, fuck. Me." he growled.

She whirled around just as he began to swagger towards her with exaggerated slowness as she got her pants up. She would worry about the shirt once she had gotten the hell away from him even if it meant further embarrassment of more people seeing her half naked once she was outside.

As soon as she grabbed the handle to pull the door open he reached around her slamming it back shut, resting a hand on either side of her, caging her in between his arms.

Nora pressed her back against the door trying to put as much space between them as possible, glaring up at him.

"I'll fucking scream," she threatened.

"Oh I bet you most certainly would, wouldn't you.." he purred. "That _is_ the real reason why you got in my truck, right? You saw this and you just _had to have it all to yourself." _He gestured downwards with one hand suggestively.

She nearly laughed at how absurd that looked.

"You _knew _I was in your.. oh my God.. you're a fucking serial killer aren't you? Or.. or a rapist? Both?"

He looked genuinely offended stepping back away from her, eyes wide. "Hey! Just because I've killed and eaten a few people who pissed me off doesn't make _me_ a bad person! _They _deserved what was coming to them."

"_You _are fucking nuts and _I'm_ leaving."

She did just that; running outside, the man's voice following her as he shouted;

"You don't seem altogether yourself considering you saw firsthand what you were dealing with and decided to invite yourself in!"

She was in the motions of pulling her shirt on over her head when a white hot pain lanced through her thigh followed by a sharp crack. She fell to her knees in the dirt, gasping and clutching her leg in disbelief.

At first, she thought that the crazy bastard had changed his mind and was either going to kill, eat, and/or possibly rape her.

"Stupid fucking puta! Fucking whore! Already spreading your legs for more heroin?" came an angry cry from the direction of the shot.

No fucking way. How had the Vagos found her?

"Carlos, it isn't what it looks like.." she said, weakly, her head spinning from the pain as she tried to staunch the bleeding with her hand.

"Really? Because it looks pretty fucking clear to me since your tits were out not thirty fucking seconds ago."

She raised her head enough to see that only two of his crew had came with him in a single car. Maybe she could talk him down like she had so many times before and she could go back to the way it was. It would be miserable but at least she would be alive.

She could take the occasional beating as long as she had a roof over her head and a place to call home. The streets were not a place to be in San Andreas. Carlos had a 9mm leveled at her head, a look of fury on his face twisting his handsome features into something ugly.

The kind of fury that she always saw right before he beat her. The kind that told her no matter what she said she was fucked.

"Carlos, please.."

"Don't you fucking 'Carlos, please' me you stupid fucking cunt! You don't laugh in my face in front of my boys and then just expect to leave."

He lunged forward, pressing the gun against her forehead, the barrel still hot.

"Hope he was a good fuck because this is going to be the last time you ever fuck anyone ever again."

"Fuck you, you tiny dicked bitch," she spat at him. "Anyone would be a better fuck than you."

He started to squeeze the trigger and she looked up into his eyes. Even if she couldn't save herself she would make sure that he watched her die and that this moment would hopefully come back to haunt him forever.

"_What the fuck is going on out here_?"

She jumped having completely forgotten about the man in the trailer who had apparently just noticed the shitstorm that had arrived at his front porch.

"This doesn't concern you, motherfucker," Carlos shouted, his eyes and the gun never leaving her face.

"Actually, this concerns me a great deal, _amigo._ There's three armed men outside my house about to murder a defenseless woman. Pretty good reason for concern if you ask me."

"Well nobody fucking asked you, did they, pendejo?" Carlos sounded annoyed, now.

Nora heard the man edging closer behind her but she couldn't see him and she was afraid to move with Carlos so wound up he might pull the trigger at any sudden movement.

He edged around beside her, his hands up in a placating gesture and she felt a sense of dread coiling in her stomach as her eyes flicked back and forth from her crazed ex-boyfriend and the crazy bastard.

"Are you going to become a fucking problem?" Carlos snarled, finally looking away from Nora.

"Not at all." the man said, shrugging slightly.

Then he kicked her in the side, _hard_. She fell onto her opposite side with a small cry of pain, barely registering the sound of the gun going off into the dirt behind where her head had just been. Her vision was blurred as she realized she was on the verge of blacking out soon.

"Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?" he shouted. "The only one who gets to murder people in my yard is ME. Trevor Phillips, remember it you cocksuckers!"

Even though Carlos and his men were already dead, Trevor Phillips continued to rant, waving Carlos' gun around over his head.

Nora blacked out.


	2. Chapter 2

Small World - Chapter 2 -

A/N: So happy that you guys enjoyed the first chapter :D Like I said I will keep writing because I love Trevor and I think the dynamic of him in a "relationship" is fascinating and interesting to explore as a writer. [And I just want to keep his story going because I never wanted GTA V to end] I'm nervous that the second chapter will disappoint you lol

* * *

Nora awoke with a blinding headache; barely able to open her eyes wider than slits. Her nostrils were full of the familiar stench that could only be the inside of Trevor's trailer making her already rolling stomach heave.

She rolled onto her side and vomited over the edge of the bed.

Bed?

"Are.. are you alright?" said a timid voice that she didn't recognize.

Once she was certain that her stomach would no longer need evacuating she rolled back over and settled painfully against the pillow trying successfully to open her eyes all the way.

An anxious looking man was sitting on the edge of the bed wearing oversized glasses and a hat pushed down tightly onto his head. He was watching her as if she might explode at any moment.

"I'm, um, Ron. I work for Trevor. He told me to look after you while he, uh.. cleaned up.. you know."

She looked past him out of the window and saw that it was dark.

Shit.

How long had she been out? It couldn't have been later than noon when she had gotten shot.

Experimentally, she felt her leg seeing how bad it was. To her surprise she found that her pants leg had been cut away and the bullet wound had been bandaged.

"I got the bullet out," said Ron, holding up an ashtray with the slug jingling around inside.

"Thanks," she rasped, resting her hand on top of his briefly. He was practically glowing. She had a feeling he didn't see a lot of gratitude come his way often.

"How's the patient doing? Ron! What did you fucking do now, huh? You look guilty about something," Trevor said, coming inside with a bang making both of them jump. Her ribs complained and her stomach gave another horrible lurch.

"N-Nothing," Ron sputtered, quickly standing.

She could see that Trevor was covered in dirt and his thinning hair was standing out in all directions more than it had been before. He stared down Ron a fraction of a second longer, presumably to see if he were lying.

"Then what are you still standing there for? Go make some coffee. Move!"

"Yes, Trevor!"

Ron scrambled away, gratefully, and Trevor took his place sitting down on the edge of the bed, putting his hand on the inside of her thigh over the bullet wound.

"How does this feel?" he asked, lowering his voice.

"Like shit," she replied, bluntly. "Also, my ribs hurt like hell from where you kicked me."

_My mouth tastes like a goat's ass and you're still covered in dirt from burying the men who just tried to kill me in unmarked graves. I'm just fucking peaches and cream, _she added, mentally.

"A little gratitude if you don't mind. Did save your life."

_"Thank you," _she stated, dryly.

God, she was so tired and her bladder was about to burst but, she had a feeling that sleep would win the battle. Ron came back with a steaming mug and Trevor snatched it away, holding it out out to her. She shook her head and yawned loudly.

"God damn it, Ron, what is _wrong_ with you? Can't you see that she wants to sleep? It's the middle of the fucking night!"

"Um.."

"Take this shit and get the fuck out," Trevor barked, thrusting the mug so forcefully back into the cowering man's hands that some of it's contents sloshed out over the side. Nonetheless, Ron fled and she silently wished that she could follow him.

"Well," Trevor said loudly, startling her, again. "I'm going to watch you while you sleep.. to make sure that you're alright.."

" 'kay," she mumbled, already closing her eyes.

* * *

Nora hadn't so much fallen asleep as blacked out again from sheer exhaustion.

When she awoke the next morning she felt a strange pressure on her chest.

At first, she thought that it might be her bruised ribs but that didn't really make sense.

When she saw what it actually was she nearly gasped out loud.

Trevor was nearly lying on top of her, still sleeping.

He had somehow, without waking her, slid into bed right up against her and pillowed his head against her chest, one of his legs draped across hers. She must have _really _been out.

"Trevor?"

He mumbled something and wrapped his arm around her tightly. She noticed that he had the word "FUCK" tattooed across his knuckles.

_"Trevor."_

"Mmpff, hold me," he groaned.

She sighed, feeling exasperated, and was pleased to find that it didn't hurt to breathe which meant that her ribs were somewhat better, at least.

Nora carefully disentangled herself without waking him up (not that it even seemed a possibility) and went into the bathroom, limping to avoid putting too much pressure on her wounded leg.

At last she emptied her bladder with a relieved sigh.

She noticed the boxes of Redwoods that she had taken yesterday on the table on the way out and tiptoed over. She stuck one in her mouth and looked around for a lighter. Finding one, she went outside and sat down on the steps taking a wonderful drag of smoke.

Closing her eyes she tipped her head back and exhaled, listening to sound of traffic and the mournful bay of dogs barking in the distance. It was strangely peaceful compared to Los Santos where it had always been loud and suffocating.

Everyone and the desperate race to be better than everyone else; better cars, better houses, better wives, better mistresses.

That had never been her.

All of the glamorous women with their expensive hairstyles and gaudy makeup to attract as much attention as possible sickened her. She had always done the opposite.

Nora kept her hair short and spiky with no makeup and loose, unflattering clothes keeping up a tomboyish appearance so that everyone would look over her on the street.

It made her think of something her mother had told her before she had died; "You are always beautiful, Nora, no matter how you dress. You are true to yourself and that is the most beautiful thing about you. You don't care what others think and you'll do fine in this world."

She didn't know if that was entirely true anymore; all she ever seemed to do was fuck up and make all the wrong decisions "being true to herself".

Her cigarette had burned all the way down to the filter before she heard the trailer door creak open and Trevor came staggering out, squinting and looking disoriented.

"Who the fuck are you?" he grunted before unzipping his pants and pissing off of his porch, his back to her.

"You serious?"

He hopped a couple of times after he was done, zipping up and turning around to face her.

"It's about to get real fucking serious if you don't start talking."

"I'm Nora.. that asshole shot me yesterday in your yard and you said only you could do that or something. Kind of foggy for me too."

"Oh. _Ohhh _the naked chick. How's the leg?"

"Eh, still hurts like a bitch but your friend did a good job on it so I think I'll live. Thanks again to _you_ for dealing with my problem."

"You can thank me by bending over so that I can stick it up and under_, nice and deep_."

He put his hands out to the sides as if he was propositioning his dick to her like an award.

She snorted and shook her head slightly unable to stop herself from smirking.

"What? You're practically _obligated_. I've already seen your tits and I killed someone for you! It's practically love at first sight!"

"Oh yes," she said sarcastically. "At last I've found my prince charming; he was out here in this trailer park all along."

"Don't be a fucking smartass," he growled.

His cellphone began to ring and he answered it with an agitated "What?"

She tried to listen to the person on the other end but she couldn't hear anything.

"Alright, bye."

She staggered to her feet "What was that about?"

"What are you my secretary now? I have some errands to run."

"Can I come?"

He paused "Sure. You can come; I can come. We can come together."

_"You know what I mean."_

"_Of course_ I do, sweetcheeks," he said.

He went over to his truck and opened the passenger side door with a flourish meaning for her to get in. Once she was inside he slammed the door after her.

She leaned her elbow against the open window frame resting her head in her hand as they pulled away.

"You alright?" he asked after driving a little ways.

"Yeah. I'm just a little dizzy and I'm kinda hungry, too."

"I'll have to stop for some gas. You can get a candy bar or something. Shit, what the fuck does he want now." he muttered, his cellphone ringing again.

"Wade. How's things going over there?" he said by way of greeting.

"Don't you think this was something that you should have told me a little sooner? Fuck."

"Change of plans," Trevor announced, addressing her. "We're going to have to head into Los Santos and go to my strip club. Apparently, there's 'some shit going down' and I need to get over there right away."

"You.. have a strip club?"she asked, genuinely surprised.

"This _surprises_ you?"

"Well, yeah. I mean how did you..?"

"It's a long story; one I don't want to get into right now. I want to hear about _you. _What was up with that prick yesterday?"

"Also a long story," she said, warily, hoping he would let it go.

"It's a long drive. Talk."

She shifted uncomfortably and he glanced sidelong at her.

"Oh, what, you think that whatever happened to you is so terrible that I can't hear it, huh? If I intend to fuck someone then I need to know at least a little bit about them first so get with the talking."

"Alright,"she conceded. "My life started going to shit right around the time I turned eighteen and decided to join the army; back when I lived in Liberty City. I served for two years and by the time I got out I came back to a broken home."

"I didn't ask for your _entire _life story," he interjected.

"My dad had left my mom and went off to God knows where. After that she got off her meds; she was a schizophrenic and needed to be supervised. The fucker hadn't even bothered to tell anyone that he had gone away."

"I hadn't had contact with either of them for six months and I had no idea what had happened."

"She had gotten so depressed after he had left her alone she stopped taking her pills and when I walked through the door in my uniform she thought I was _him _from when he had served back when they had first met."

"She had her .38 pistol waiting for me in the kitchen. She screamed and ranted about how could I leave her right before she shot me," she put her fingers over the scar under her breast. "Right here."

"Punctured my lung. Neighbor heard the shot and called the cops. Don't remember much after that since I nearly died in surgery."

"The government seized the house while I was in the hospital and deemed it unfit for suitable living conditions. Bulldozed it down with all of our things still inside. They told me later that there was human fecal matter smeared all over the walls."

"When I got out of the hospital I joined back up with the army, having nowhere else to go, I pushed my limits as hard I could."

"I outperformed most of the men in my squadron so well that I was selected to lead a black ops team. Did a lot of horrible shit off the books that I wanted to forget about."

"And you just decided to throw it all away and exchange it for meaningless rutting with multiple partners in back alleys for illegal substances and possibly choking on your own vomit." he interrupted.

"That's.. one way of putting it."

"At least you moved on, albeit in a self-destructive way, which is better than wallowing in self loathing much like my friend has for a decade."

He was silent for a moment "Not that it doesn't make me really happy knowing that he's miserable."

"If you're happy because he's miserable then why are you still friends?" she asked, curiously.

"Like I said; long story. I'll tell you about it sometime."

* * *

The Vanilla Unicorn was not entirely what Nora had been expecting once she had stepped inside, past the neon exterior. It was a nice, daresay, classy establishment.

"Hey there, sugar."

She turned around as a stripper approached wearing only a red sequined thong and stilettos.

Trevor addressed her "Where's Wade?"

"He's in your office."

"Alright. Now, go make daddy some money."

He slapped her on the ass as she walked past him, heading for a man who had just entered the club. The man grinned enthusiastically seeing the petite, half-naked blonde who walked with an exaggerated sway in her hips coming to greet him.

They went through a door to the left of the stage entering a dressing room and continuing onwards until they came to another door that led to the office.

"Oh, hey Trevor!"

Wade was a pitiful creature if she had ever seen one; he had a heavy speech impediment that made him hard to understand. Like Ron, he seemed understandably terrified of Trevor.

He nearly fell down in his haste to stand from behind the desk toppling the chair in the process.

"What the fuck is going on. You weren't making any sense on the phone," said Trevor impatiently.

"Um, yeah, so uh some really religious types came in talking about how this was a temple of sin and they started talking to the strippers about how they should repent from their evil ways and then one of the religious guys got really pissed off and kidnapped one of the strippers."

"_What? _Why didn't you just say that in the first place? Did they say where they were going? And why didn't you fucking stop them?"

"I-I'm real sorry, Trevor. I tried. I could recognize the car if I saw it again though. I got a real good look at it."

"_Fucking cults_. Alright, Wade, come on you help me look for them. Nora, you can flash your tits and distract them or something."

She shot him an annoyed look but said nothing as the three of them left the club and got into Trevor's truck.

Wade rode in the back while Nora sat up front as all three of them kept a lookout for the cultists.

"Okay, _Wade_ what the fuck are we looking for?"

"It's a really, really bright blue sedan. Kind of like a sky blue."

"_Like _a sky blue or sky blue?"

"It was definitely sky blue."

"I know these assholes. Although their acts of debauchery are usually more cloak and dagger."

"Who are they?" Nora asked.

"About to be very fucking dead cultists," Trevor snarled.

"Look! That's it over there!" cried Wade.

Sitting straight across from them at the traffic light was a bright blue car with three men and one very angry looking exotic dancer in the back seat, two of the men restraining her.

Nora could read the driver's lips as he said "Oh shit!" when he saw them. The driver ran the red light narrowly avoiding being hit by an suv.

"Give me back my stripper you fuck!" Trevor shouted, giving chase.

He reached back and forth under the seat until he brought out a micro smg checking to see that it was loaded. He tossed it into her lap.

"Know how to use that? If not, aim the hole away from your face and squeeze."

Her heart started to race as she slid over and hung partially out of the window.

She knew this feeling; she hadn't experienced it since she had left the army. It was the exhilaration and the freedom that having a gun in your hand gave you; there was nothing else like it.

She took aim at the back tires of the car and opened fire hitting the left wheel, the rubber shredding apart. The driver was determined to keep going and managed to hold the car steady in it's lane despite the bare rim sparking and slipping against the pavement.

Her aim was true a second time as she destroyed both rear tires.

She realized that she was grinning wildly as she watched the car smash into a tree with the terrible sound of rending metal and shattering glass.

Trevor stopped the truck as she slid back inside and opened the door, climbing out.

He got to the wreckage before her, snatching open the rear door and dragging out one of the kidnappers by his throat.

Nora could see that the driver had died from the impact, his face a bloody pulp from the airbags not deploying.

"Real ballsy of you to try stealing from me you pajama wearing freaks. I hope it was worth it."

The man coughed clearing his throat before trying to speak.

"It was the will of Kraff."

"To take someone from their place of work while they are just trying to earn a decent living?"

"Kifflommmppf!" he gurgled, cut off because Nora had shoved the smg into his mouth.

"We only need one of you alive to fucking talk and it's up to you to decide which one now start fucking talking!" she shouted.

His eyes were comically round as his pupils darted back and forth between them.

"What was that?" she said, as he had tried to say something.

"Wait! Wait! It.. It was Kraff's will that this woman be taken to a higher paying job with health benefits personally serving our leader Cris Formage! It was nothing personal, man, really!"

Trevor spun the man around and slammed his face into the trunk lid with a sickening crunch

"It got fucking personal when you decided to mess with my shit so, fuck you! Kifflom! Kifflom! Kifflom!"

He punctuated every "Kifflom!" by slamming the cultist's face into the trunk lid until there was a large red smear across the shiny blue paint, letting him slide to the ground after the final blow.

"Gah! Fuck, I hate cults!"

A high pitched shriek came from the backseat "I'll have to get new extensions because of this! I just got these and they cost me _five hundred dollars_!"

The disgruntled stripper climbed out, stumbling on her heels as she adjusted one of her pasties. She looked absolutely furious like a scalded cat; her hair ragged and tangled but otherwise she seemed unharmed.

"Jesus fucking Christ! Is he _dead_? Oh-Omigod!" she exclaimed, shrilly, seeing the driver.

"Okay, honey I'm going to need you to shut the fuck up now and go get in the back with your friend, Wade," Trevor told the irate woman.

She looked very unhappy as she stalked away, stumbling more than once. Wade tried to give her a hand to help her up but she slapped it away and sulkily climbed in by herself.

He turned on Nora "And you. I just want to..," he stopped, rumbling low in his chest, giving her a meaningful look.

"I do still have that smg you gave me," she warned him.

"You're into that, huh? Hold the gun to my head while you ride one out. That is so fucking hot."

"I don't-"

But he was already leaving and she had to almost run to catch up. The four of them didn't even notice as the one remaining cultist emerged from the wreckage and fled without a single backwards glance.

Yeah, she had done a lot of shit she wasn't proud of.

That's not to say that she hadn't enjoyed it.

**Mission Passed ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Small World - Chapter 3 -**

**A/N: At least you guys are sticking with it and I appreciate that very much. :) Thanks for all of the kind reviews. Gives me motivation to keep writing!**

* * *

The stripper was still very angry and sat with her head down glaring at the floor. Wade was trying very hard not to stare at Nora because he seemed to be fascinated by her. More than once she caught him looking at her at which point he would quickly look away.

Trevor just glared straight ahead with tunnel vision focused only on the road.

It was Wade that at last broke the silence "Miss.. uh.."

"Nora," she supplied, reaching awkwardly around and shaking Wade's hand.

"Nora. That's a pretty name. I was just wondering; what happened to your leg?"

"My ex-boyfriend shot me."

"That sucks. You want to hear something kind of funny? Even though it wasn't really all that funny for me at the time?"

"Okay."

"So, like, when I was a teenager I was screwing around with my granddaddy's gun and I couldn't get it to shoot so, I smacked it a couple of times and it misfired into my scrotum."

Nora bit her lip to keep from laughing "That sounds terrible."

"It was. The bullet didn't actually hit either one of my testicles though so I guess I was lucky."

"Wade. What the fuck are you doing? She doesn't want to hear about your fucking ballsack, alright? " Trevor said, sounding irritated.

"And neither do I you little freak," the stripper added.

"Hey, you don't get to talk to him that way. What I said earlier still stands; shut the fuck up. You've put us through enough bullshit."

_"Excuse me."_ Her voice was high and shrill with indignation.

Nora noticed that Trevor had sped up slightly and she felt around for the door handle, clutching onto it for dear life when she found it.

If there was one thing that she had picked up on during the time she had spent with the man, it was that Trevor wasn't someone to lose patience because he never had it to begin with.

Thankfully, the agitated stripper seemed to notice that he wasn't in a very good mood and was quiet for the much shorter return trip.

"Everybody get the fuck out of my face," Trevor announced, coming to a lurching stop outside the Vanilla Unicorn, something that Nora was prepared for this time bracing her feet against the floor.

No one had to be told twice to leave as hurried escapes were made; even Nora started to climb out.

"_Not you._"

She stopped, grudgingly shutting the door back and slumping into her seat.

"You did pretty well for yourself back there," he said, undisguised adoration in his voice.

"I've had my fair share of time with a gun in my hands. Guess it still comes in handy every once in a while."

"How'd you like to be my business partner? Could use someone like you to help run things."

The question caught her off guard.

"Business?"

"Selling meth and guns to the respectable citizens of Blaine County, _real _heavy shit."

"Does it pay well?"

"Ha! Now, that's what I like to hear. I think we'll both be _very_ satisfied with the arrangement."

Hell, why not? She could handle a few tweakers; it could never be as bad as what had happened in Baghdad after she-

Her right hand jerked involuntarily and she clenched it into a fist. No, she wouldn't think about that.

* * *

Shimmering glass and metal give way to barren sand and scrub as they returned to the desert. Something had been on her mind ever since they had first met and she couldn't stand it any longer.

"I have to ask," she began, hesitantly. "What's the deal with the bear?"

"Bear?"

"On the front of your truck."

"_Mr Raspberry Jam_ is an acquaintance of mine; a family heirloom you could say, that's been passed on."

"Judging by the look of that fucking thing it was more than an acquaintance."

"He helped me through a difficult time in my life."

"God damn, don't refer to it as a _he. _I'm creeped out enough knowing that you put your.. _fuck._ Wish I hadn't asked."

"Nothing wrong with a lonely man seeking companionship in a time of need."

"Which happened to be a teddy bear wearing panties."

"Correct."

"And here I was thinking my mom was a fucking lunatic," she muttered under her breath.

They pulled up outside his trailer and she opened the door before they had even come to a full stop. She swung her legs out and put too much pressure on her wound as she stood up sending jagged glass spikes into her hip.

She bit her lip and let out a pained hiss trying to catch her breath hearing hurried footsteps coming to her aid.

"Hey, easy there. Just put your arm around me. There you go, nice and slow," Trevor coaxed, as she draped her arm around his neck supporting herself awkwardly.

A strange buzzing was going off at the base of her skull as they started towards the front door. She knew this feeling even though she didn't understand how exactly she knew.

Something wasn't right.

Call it female intuition or dumb luck but she always felt this way whenever she was near an IED, back when she had served in the army. She had saved the lives of six men when they had raided a house in Baghdad suspected of harboring a fugitive.

Her team leader was about to barge the door down that led into the basement, the last room that they hadn't checked, when she had urged him to check for trip wires first.

He had scoffed at her since they had already been to five other houses that day and they had all been empty saying that it would just be a waste of time.

It must have been something about the haunted look that she gave him or maybe he had already been feeling uneasy too because he had listened and a robot had been brought in.

Sure enough a wire was attached to the detonator of C4 charges that had been placed all around the opposite side of the door rigged to blow if it were so much as cracked open. The fugitive was sitting on the other side ready to die as a martyr along with her and the rest of her team.

Everyone had escaped with their lives that day thanks to her.

She knew that it wasn't any different now.

She had to act quickly.

She threw her full weight against Trevor, knocking him to the ground, instinctively covering his body with her own to shield him.

Mere seconds later the terrible explosion followed as his trailer was completely engulfed by an inferno. She couldn't see it happening but she felt the sweltering heat blistering her exposed skin mercilessly, the sound deafening like the roar of a great beast.

Her ears popped as a high pitched ringing became the only sound that she could hear having been temporarily deafened by the explosion.

"You okay?" she shouted. She couldn't even hear her own voice and she didn't think that he could either because he didn't answer; he just stared with a stunned expression past her at his ruined home.

Where both of them had just nearly been inside.

Somehow she managed to stand on her own, ignoring the sting of her scorched flesh as her skin pulled uncomfortably taught across her back in the effort of doing so.

She glanced wildly around herself and up the street and saw what she had been dreading; three Vagos cars were heading straight for them. All that remained of Carlos' crew.

He must have told them where he was going in case he didn't come back.

The bastard was still fucking her even though he was dead and she felt a deep hatred surge through her. Maybe she hadn't put much value on her own life and maybe she still didn't but she couldn't allow someone else, even someone like Trevor, to pay for her sins.

She snatched the smg from the truck and opened fire on the approaching cars, forgetting about her injuries, she screamed in rage.

"Coming to avenge your tiny balled leader, assholes? Don't worry you'll be joining him in hell soon enough."

The lead driver's eye exploded out of it's socket as a bullet took it's place, his head slumping forward onto the steering wheel causing the horn to blare loudly. The car careened onto the curb and smashed into the side of a building, one of it's occupants was thrown through the windshield before getting ran over by the two remaining cars.

She quickly glanced back looking for Trevor but he was nowhere in sight. The Vagos returned fire, their shots sparking off of the asphalt dangerously close to where she stood forcing her to seek cover.

It had been stupid of her to expect Carlos' death to just go away and that there wouldn't be immediate retaliation. Every time she allowed herself to hope was when everything turned to shit.

And where the fuck was Trevor?

She got her answer as he came around from the other side of Ron's trailer, loading a round into an rpg. He stalked past her, seeming not to care about the hail of bullets.

She felt rather than heard the explosion when he fired the rpg; her ears were still ringing like all of the choirs of hell. She stood there for several moments not daring to look around and see if it was safe.

A rough hand clamped down on her shoulder and she was relieved to see that it was Trevor. He was absolutely livid with fury as he dragged her after him, grasping her upper arm so hard it hurt so that she had no choice but to stumble after him.

Her hearing slowly started to fade back in as if someone were turning up the volume on a television. She could hear the distant wail of sirens.

For some reason she had forgotten about the police and the fire department most certainly being called to deal with the disaster that had happened there.

Trevor seemed to notice the sirens as well, taking one last look back at his destroyed home before the two of them left.

* * *

"I'm sorry.. for everything."

The words felt small and pathetic even as she said them; inadequate to convey how much regret she was feeling for what she had caused. They were stopped outside a house in Vinewood, Nora was leaned back against the fence surrounding the property watching everyone go by in their expensive cars.

She could only imagine what they were thinking; she and Trevor couldn't look more out of place. Both of them dirty and deranged looking, her skin shading from pink to bright red on her arms, her jeans missing one leg, her bandages covered in soot and soaked through with fresh blood from all of the excitement.

She was dead tired and starting to go through the symptoms of withdrawal, in short, she felt absolutely wretched. Emotionally and physically burned out.

Trevor was.. well she didn't really know what he was thinking. He hadn't spoken a word to her since they had left and she hadn't tried speaking to him until now.

He was sitting on the sidewalk, his back resting against the gate across the driveway, a half-empty beer clutched in his hand so loosely that she expected him to let it slip from his fingers.

Suddenly, he threw the bottle into the street with an angry cry.

"This is _your fucking fault!_" he shouted at her as he scrambled to his feet.

He grabbed her by the throat, his eyes filled with murderous intent as he squeezed, but not hard enough to actually choke her. She looked back at him bleakly, not even attempting to fight him; she had no fight left.

His thumb was resting over her pulse so that he could feel her heartbeat hammering erratically as he moved in closer.

"I'm beginning to think that you are more trouble than you're fucking worth," he said, his voice low and dangerous. She could tell that he was very angry and was trying hard to hold himself back, but she didn't think that he was actually angry with her: he was just angry about everything that had happened.

She maneuvered her hips forward slightly so that her body was pressed up against his making him inhale sharply, a look of surprise crossing over his scarred face.

"I will make it up to you_,_" she said softly, meaning to calm him down.

With a low sound of approval he pulled her into him, his fingers sliding up to her chin tipping her head back while his other hand went to her ass giving it a hard squeeze. She was alarmed at how her body was reacting to him and when she looked up into his eyes her stomach gave a lurch.

His pupils were dilating with arousal as he gazed down at her with an almost frightening intensity. Visions of him choking her as he fucked her teased it's way into her mind's eye making her heart hammer wildly.

It wasn't an entirely unpleasant idea.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything. Damn, T what the fuck have you been doing now? You smell like a barbecue grill."

A man wearing a tennis uniform was standing there eyeing them with something like cautious amusement, twirling a racket in is hand.

Both of them turned at once, Trevor quickly letting go of her and pushing her away. He looked nearly embarrassed.

"I'm _sooo_ sorry I can't sit around drinking green sludge wearing cute outfits and smacking balls all day," Trevor replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Hi," she said, awkwardly.

"I don't believe we've met before. I'm Michael. Apparently, I'm Trevor's best friend when he isn't on his period trying to kill me," Michael said, his voice sour.

"Yeah, whatever, Mikey. Are you gonna invite us in or are you gonna stand there and sweat on us?" Trevor demanded, impatiently.

"Oh, by all means don't let _me_ stand in the way of you coming into _my_ house."

It was strange going from the rundown desolation that Sandy Shores offered into such decadence. Michael's home was pristine; the total opposite of Trevor's trailer. A maid was even busying herself dusting off the bits and bobs that decorated the mansion.

She wondered how the hell they could know each other since to her Michael seemed too, well.. _normal _as far as appearances went. She was seated in the living room on the couch watching the big screen tv mounted on the wall listening to the two of them talk.

"She had some gang bangers after her and I _took care of it_," Trevor was saying, taking a swig from a beer that he had taken from the refrigerator.

"Ah, okay. That still doesn't explain why you're here or why she's here," Michael pointed out, something that Nora was wondering as well.

"Can't I just stop by to visit a dear friend? Why do I need a reason?"

"No, you can't. You always want something now just cut out the bullshit and tell what's up."

"Yeah, alright. My friend over there needs a place to stay and mend while I get my shit in order."

"What?" both she and Michael cried at the same time.

"Now, don't you fucking start with me; this is the least you can do, _Michael._"

"Yeah, well fuck you. I don't even know her and I'm expected to be okay with her sleeping under the same roof as my kids?"

Trevor laughed, a high nasally sound.

"Have you _looked_ at her? She can barely stand. What is she gonna do, huh? She gonna bleed on your floors and maybe you have to pay the maid a little extra? Stop being a fucking dick."

"You can't just fucking dump me off here," she protested.

"Look, I need to go do some shit, alright? You'll only slow me down, sweetheart. Just sit here, relax, maybe get sugar tits over there to fix you a cup of kale to help you feel better," Trevor said, his voice low and soothing.

She slumped miserably knowing that he was probably right. She'd only been with him for two days and it made her uneasy as she realized how much it bothered her that he was leaving.

"Fine," she grunted.

Trevor clapped Michael on the shoulder before going to leave "Alrighty, I'll be back before you know it."

And then he was gone; the door banging loudly shut after him.

"That's what scares me," Michael muttered.

He turned to her "So, I guess there's no way around it for either of us is there? Just tell me one thing; did he kidnap you because I do not want to go through that shit again."

"No."

He sighed, a long suffering sound pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I'm even house trained," she smirked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Considering the kind of company he keeps that is actually good to know."

"Look, I can go-"

"It's okay," he said, waving her off.

"There's a first aid kit in the bathroom. You can ask my wife or my daughter, Tracey, for some clean clothes. God knows it wouldn't hurt either of them to part with some of that shit. Can barely fit my own clothes in our closet."

"Thank you," she said, sincerely.

"Least I can do, right?" he said, paraphrasing Trevor's parting words with a wry smile.

He turned to go into the kitchen then stopped turning back, addressing her:

"Listen, I don't know exactly what's going on between you two but take it from someone who has known him for too fucking long; watch your ass. Trevor is the dangerous, psychotic motherfucker that all of the other dangerous, psychotic motherfuckers go out of their way to avoid," he warned.

She stared after him as he disappeared into the kitchen, feeling a thrill go through her at his words.


	4. Chapter 4

**Small World - Chapter 4 -**

**A/N: I went into Michael's house for reference during this chapter and I noticed that there is no shower or bathtub in the bathroom. I hope that you enjoy the chapter and the story is still interesting and makes sense. This chapter just kept going and going and I finally decided to break this update in half so that you get another update..**

* * *

Nora felt cold wetness dripping onto her face as she lay trying to sleep.

Annoyed, she held a hand up in front of her face trying to block the onslaught wondering why the ceiling was leaking in such a big, fancy house. She cracked an eyelid seeing only gray sky above as it rained down on her.

"What the fuck?"

Flailing somewhat pathetically for several seconds, her limbs heavy and unresponsive, she managed to sit up taking in her unknown surroundings. She winced feeling sharp pains winding through her brain; the tendrils of a hangover taking hold.

"Was never like this with Carlos," she grunted, running a hand through her hair slicking it back.

Two buildings rose up on either side of her, a black limo blocking the way straight ahead, it's lights on and the doors open.

_I'm in an alleyway. That's really fucking helpful isn't it._

She looked down at herself and saw that she was wearing clothes that weren't hers; a black baby tee cut off above her navel with the word "BABY" across her breasts spelled out in rhinestones and black skinny jeans.

Looking back over her shoulder she saw a man's legs splayed out from behind a dumpster. He wore expensive designer shoes; probably custom made.

"Hey, you okay?"

He didn't answer. She didn't even get as far as making it onto one knee before an intense burning feeling spread across her lower stomach, causing her to hiss painfully. She frantically unzipped her pants finding a piece of gauze taped over the affected area.

She ripped it off and stared, disbelieving.

A tattoo of the letters "T.P." written in elegant, white script overlaying a red maple leaf covered her lower stomach, the leaf's stem stopping just above her pubic hair. She tried to wipe it off but only blood came away instead of ink.

Three guesses as to what that "T.P." stood for. Shit, shit, shit. What had she done. What had _they _done? Where the fuck was Trevor? Questions sloshed around in her fogged mind senselessly, no answers forthcoming.

Whatever hope she had for understanding what the fuck had happened here slipped away seeing the rest of the body that belonged to those designer shoes.

"Jesus Christ."

He was sitting, his back against the wall slumped over to one side, a 9mm pistol in his right hand, the top of his head blown off in a fountain of blood, brains, and bone fragments up the wall behind. Judging by the powder burns around his mouth he seemed to have done it to himself. Beside him, one of the new iFruit phones lay covered in blood, it's screen cracked.

_Who the fuck.._

Nora struggled to remember something, anything, to tell her what could have happened here but nothing was coming.

Drugs.

Yes, that was it. There were drugs involved somehow. Not actually a revelation to the days events but it was a start. Also, she needed to find Trevor and make sure that he was okay and if he was she might kill him herself.

Without warning the world seemed to tilt and she fell down onto her hands and knees, splashing into the pooled rainwater, drenching herself worse than she already was.

The impact was like a slap across her face, causing her mind to clear and what happened to her during those lost hours began to reveal itself.

Oh, _shit._

* * *

As it turned out, Tracey was a closer fit to Nora's clothing size since Nora was a little underweight and Michael's wife wasn't exactly forthcoming when it came to parting with any of her expensive clothes to some street rat.

As a matter of fact, Amanda had been outright disgusted upon seeing Nora and had stormed out leaving in Michael's car.

It was so alien to her wearing something that showed off her figure when she had grown so used to hiding it; she felt naked. Tracey's wardrobe offered only slightly more modesty than the dressing room back at the Vanilla Unicorn.

She threw out her old clothes, which were beyond salvaging, mindful of her burns as she carefully undressed.

After she had bathed (properly this time) the water had been the color of rust; dark red and opaque. It shocked her to see for the first time in several months how her life on the streets and her drug use had affected her appearance as she stood naked in front of the bathroom mirror.

Her face was gaunt; purplish circles coloring under her dark brown eyes, her lips cracked and peeling. A clear fluid oozed from the track marks inside the creases of both her arms. Large bruises covered her ribs, dark red and purple, a blooming flower of burst capillaries courtesy of Mr Phillips' boot.

She sat about the grim task of re-stitching her bullet wound with dental floss and a needle she found in the medical kit. It was painful, slow work making her bite her lip more than once to stop herself from shouting in pain.

Once she was done she covered her mouth with her hand as she poured peroxide over the wound, muffling her scream. After applying a small gauze pad she was finally finished and ready to go downstairs. Through the window she could see that the sun was setting and it seemed odd that the day was already over.

There had been a brief conversation with Michael earlier which consisted of him telling her about his family; he had a son and a daughter, Tracey and Jimmy, and his wife, Amanda.

"Just don't do anything stupid. I'm only going along with this because Trevor is already hormonal enough about all the other shit."

"I don't know if I should be offended or flattered that you think I could be dangerous," she had said, flashing him a smile.

She smiled at her reflection making her lip split open even worse as she stood recalling their talk.

She made her way back into the tv room to find Michael's son, Jimmy sitting on the couch already a big bowl of popcorn in his lap.

Upon seeing her, he straightened up quickly, nearly dropping his popcorn.

"Well, hello there," he said, trying and failing to be seductive.

She plopped down beside him grabbing a handful of popcorn and shoving it into her mouth "Hi," she said, her mouth full.

"My dad says that you're one of uncle T's friends."

"That a question?"

"Yeah.. I mean how did you guys..?"

She paused mid-chew "Trevor killed my boyfriend and then.. then I knew. He was the one," she said, managing to keep a straight face.

Jimmy looked confused, opening his mouth as if he were about to say something else when Michael walked in.

"Check it out," Michael said, waving a dvd case around. "Solomon gave me a copy of Meltdown. The _first _copy. I was gonna watch it with the entire family, but since Amanda is pissed at me and Tracey is off doing God knows what I'm gonna have to settle with you two."

It was Nora's turn to be confused, staring blankly at Michael, not understanding why he was so excited.

"My dad helped make the movie," Jimmy said, rolling his eyes as if he had recited it many times.

Michael went around and put the dvd into the player and Jimmy groaned despairingly.

"Oh my God, dad. Not _again. _I've already seen it with you like a million times in the theater," Jimmy whined.

"Yeah. Sure. Why not," Nora said, shrugging indifferently. It had been a while since she had last seen a movie.

"Oh, uh, yeah," Jimmy stammered. "I could watch it again. No problem."

When the movie began to play, Jimmy casually scooched in closer to her and she chose to ignore him. The film was laughably awful but it seemed that was the point and soon all three of them were laughing and eating popcorn, making fun of how ridiculous everything was.

The end credits came on and the name 'Michael De Santa' appeared listed as one of the producers.

"Fuck yeah," Michael said with child-like glee. "I ain't never gonna get sick of seeing that."

Jimmy groaned "Not everyone agrees with you on that, _dad._"

"Thank you, Jim. So glad you appreciate that I've finally done something good with my life."

"Whatever. I'm going to bed. Goodnight, _Nora,_" Jimmy said, pointedly ignoring his father.

"Ah, fuck you," Michael said, waving him off as he left.

Once they were alone, Nora had a thousand questions on the tip of her tongue that she wanted answered.

"How do you know Trevor?"

"Fuck. I don't even know where to start with that one."

She sat patiently as he left and returned with another beer, turning the tv off as he sat back down. He'd already had several beers and she could hear the slight slur in his speech.

"Let me tell you a_ theoretical_ bedtime story. Now remember: all of what I'm about to say is only theoretical."

"Of course," she smirked.

"Okay then. So there were once these three guys who used to rob banks and one of them was real fucking nuts like you wouldn't even believe," Michael began.

Nora could barely sit still listening to him talk eager to know more about Trevor and Michael's history.

"This one guy; he has a family to think of and he wants out so he does something that he hates himself for afterwards, but he thinks it's the right thing to do at the time. He goes to the feds before doing a score up in North Yankton and turns himself in. While they're on the job one of the three guys dies, one gets shot, and the other one manages to get away thinking that his best friend is dead. He's actually in witness protection with a new name in a new town."

"You made him think you were _dead? _That's pretty fucked up,"she was taken aback by this information.

"Yes it was. I just didn't give a shit because I was so fucking desperate to be done with the life. I mean, what would you have done? My kids shouldn't have to grow up like that."

Nora could see the shame of what he had done still truly haunted him.

"So this guy gets bored of living the dream in his big house with his_ wonderful_ family and meets someone who makes him decide to start taking scores again. This attracts the attention of the guy's best friend who isn't very happy to learn that he's been screwed over."

"You're leaving out the best part, Mikey," said Trevor, who had at some point slipped in while Michael had been talking.

She didn't even react this time; she was used to him appearing from nowhere.

"What's that, T?" Michael was slurring so heavily now that it sounded as if "What's that" was one word.

"Oh, you know, the part where you bury Brad in your grave and then you carry on like nothing's wrong to your _best friend_ until he finally sees some fucking sense and realizes how disgusting of a bloated turd you _really_ are."

"Oh yeah," Michael said, holding up his beer. "That part."

"You see? Fucking despicable."

"That's real fuh.. fucking rich coming from you. You fucking lunatic."

"What's up?" she cut in, deciding to stop the argument before it escalated.

Trevor sat down beside her snaking his arm around behind her head resting it on the back of the couch.

"What's up is I need you to help me with something."

He was sitting very close and she could feel herself becoming slightly intoxicated by his scent, a mixture of sweat and gasoline and the all too familiar metallic scent of blood.

"What happened to resting and healing?" She felt a little annoyed but more relieved than anything that she didn't have to live the domestic life any more than she had to.

"I was gonna hold off on moving forward with the plan for a few days but an opportunity has presented itself. I need you for this to work."

"What plan? What the fuck is going on?"

"What happened to laying low?" Michael added.

"_What the fuck,_" Trevor shouted. "Is with all of these goddamn questions, huh? _Let's go._"

Taking her completely by surprise, Trevor scooped her up off of the couch bridal style. She squirmed around in protest, kicking her legs like a small child while he carried her through the house.

"Have fffun," Michael called after them.

Once they were outside he sat her down on her feet eyeing her new clothes with obvious approval, unabashedly putting his hands on her upper arms and turning her around to get a look at her ass.

"Oh yeah, gorgeous. _This is what I'm talking about,_" he growled.

"What the fuck, Trevor!"

"C'mon, baby, you got nothing to be ashamed of. I mean you're a little thin but I'm okay with it if you are."

"Last time I checked I didn't ask your opinion."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Chill the fuck out and take a compliment. I'm just being friendly."

"Fine. What do I gotta do."

He walked her over to a van with a satellite dish logo on the side "There's this prick under witness protection sitting on some documents that I need. According to my sources he had a safe installed in his garage a couple of months ago and you can bet your sweet ass that's where he keeps em."

"Uh huh. You want me to slip in and whack him?"

"_No. _If word gets out that he's dead the next stage of the plan is _pretty _much fucked. What I need is for you to go in there and distract him somehow while I crack the safe and take some pictures."

"What the hell is this for?" She slapped the side of the van.

"My guy intercepted a call from one of the cops about twenty minutes ago saying the cable is out. I _intercepted _the cable guy's van en route so that I can go in instead."

"Okay so I just run interference while you pretend to fix the boob tube. Got it."

* * *

Thirty minutes they were sitting in the van parked outside the man's house. Sure enough there was a police cruiser parked in the driveway and she could see one cop sitting inside the car.

His partner was standing outside the front door of the house having a smoke break.

"I've been thinking," Nora said, feeling bored already.

"Do tell."

"Carlos, my boyfriend, had this supplier who gave him designer drugs to distribute. All of the rich kids ate that shit up. I thought you might be interested in expanding your operation into the city?"

"I'm listening. What's this supplier's name?"

"His street name is Slick. He's a fucking poser; he lives only to impress his father, a well known and respected member of the Cartels. The only reason Slick has any street cred is because of him."

"How would I get in touch with.. Slick."

"I know his number; I used to set up meetings for Carlos when he was too fucked up to do it himself."

Trevor dug around in his pocket until he pulled out his cell phone and handed it to her. After only two rings Slick answered.

"_Yooo, who the fuck is this?_"

"Slick."

"_Nora is that you?"_

"Last time I checked."

_"Carlos want to do another deal because that meeting wasn't supposed to be until next Tuesday."_

"Carlos is dead."

Slick was quiet for a few heartbeats and all she could hear was the sound of him breathing.

_"Mierda. Did you cap his ass?"_

"Sadly no. He almost capped me. That's why I'm calling - I've got someone else who is interested in distributing for you."

_"Oho, baby, you don't waste any time do you? It's all good then. Yeah, alright, fuck it how's tomorrow morning sound?"_

"Sounds good, Slick. Knew I could count on you."

_"Yeah, we'll see when I meet the dude."_

"See you then," she said, hanging up.

"Meeting's set. Tomorrow morning. I know the time and place, it's an alleyway near Vespucci Beach."

"Roger that, _partner_. Oh, here, I brought you something to take the edge off.."

He held up a little baggy filled with a crystalline substance and she eyed it dubiously. "It's just meth," he said, sounding exasperated.

Nora had only tried meth once before and as far as she could remember it had been a mostly pleasurable experience. She'd been up for twenty six hours straight and believed herself to be the savior of mankind.

She took it from him, dipping her thumb inside, getting a small amount on the back of her thumbnail. She put it up to her nostril and snorted deeply coughing a little as it hit the back of her throat burning the inside of her nose.

A pleasurable euphoria spread throughout her entire body sharpening her senses and relaxing her completely, making her forget about the pain she was in. The cop having a smoke tossed the butt of his cigarette into the shrubs before going back inside.

"Wait a few minutes after I've gone in before you come over," she said, opening the door.

"What exactly are you plannin' on doing here?"

"Just be ready."

She slipped out of the van and moved stealthily towards the house, hiding behind one of the cars parked on the curb. She stripped down to her bra and panties, hiding her clothes under the car's fender on top of the tire.

Waiting until the cop still outside wasn't really paying attention she slipped by him, ringing the doorbell, slumping against the wall as though she could hardly stand.

"O'Neil what the fuck do you want now you're supposed to be-"the cop answered the door, complaining loudly.

He stopped, seeing her instead of his partner, draped across the doorframe.

"Is Gruh.. Greg here?" she said, slurring her words heavily.

"What?" he stammered, managing to tear his eyes away from where they had settled on her chest.

"His best friend called me as a surprise for his birthday, I was, like, supposed to give him a lapdance."

She feigned being _very _inebriated as she accidentally stumbled against him, pressing her boobs against his chest.

"Oopsie," she giggled.

"Who is that?" came a voice from somewhere inside the house.

"It's nobody, just stay back."

"Doesn't sound like nobody.." a man in a wheelchair rolled himself around the corner, his voice dying in his throat upon seeing her.

"Are you Greg?" she said, sounding hopeful.

"Oh my God, honey, I'll be whoever you want me to be. Let her in you idiot what is wrong with you," the man in the wheelchair scolded the policeman giving him a withering look.

"Goddammit, this could be a trap! Spencer get back in the house," the cop complained, sounding uncertain.

"I don't give a shit! The cables been out for two fucking hours, a drunk stripper shows up at the wrong address and I'm just supposed to say no? If I have to wait much longer without some form of entertainment I'm just going to paint a fucking bullseye on my chest and roll myself out into the street."

"Hiiii," she simpered, waving shyly at Spencer. He was the text book interpretation of the word 'nerd' wearing a button up shirt and khakis with thick hipster glasses sitting crookedly on his nose, a white piece of tape holding them together in the middle. The only thing missing was the penholder in his shirt pocket. None of that drew the eye away from the plaster casts on both of his legs, however.

"Fine. What do I know." the cop sulked as she slipped by.

Nora quickly checked out the inside of the house; it was simple and well organized. A man's home with no signs of a feminine touch, a plain bookshelf stocked with books on computer programming sat against the far wall when she entered the living room. A hideously pea green sofa was the conversation piece sitting in the center of the room positioned in front of a massive flatscreen which showed only white noise.

Spencer wheeled himself rapidly through the house staying ahead of her.

"You got some music, sweetie?" she asked in an over-the-top sweet voice completely unlike her own.

"There's a stereo over there, baby, turn it to whatever you like." She pictured him rubbing his hands together while she stood with her back to him tuning the radio.

She stopped when Britney Spears "Gimme More" came on, turning it up in full hi-def surround sound. Nora began to slowly move her hips in time with the hypnotic techno beat.

On cue, she heard heavy knocking at the front door as she continued to dance,. "That had better be the cable guy," the cop grumbled, leaving to answer the door.

"It is about fucking time. I called for someone two hours ago." she heard him say.

"Sorry about that. Traffic was-" Trevor stopped talking as he walked in, seeing her.

Unable to resist, she looked up at him from beneath her lashes toying with one of her bra straps, slipping it off of her shoulder.

"Ohhh, who is _this,_" she said, eagerly.

Trevor was now dressed in a black polo shirt with the cable company logo on the right breast, the brown pressed pants to match looking a size too small, and she was pretty sure the little red spot on the brim of his cap wasn't ketchup.

Nora smirked as she sank to the floor doing the splits before getting on her hands and knees crawling over to where Trevor stood, frozen. She slid her hands up his thighs as she stood, enjoying how much his restraint was slipping as she took it further, turning around and grinding her ass against his crotch.

"You're fucking late, dude. I was dying over here," Spencer complained.

"Whatever you say," Trevor replied, not caring, his voice strained as the bulge she felt growing against her backside. She slipped away from him, deciding to stop her antics and let him get on with opening the safe.

"Whatever? _Whatever_?" Spencer said angrily. "I'm filing a complaint against your ass, buddy."

Roused by how rude Spencer was being, Trevor turned the full wrath of his aggression on the clueless man. "First off you're _not _my buddy you little shit. Secondly, I was sitting in traffic the entire time I wasn't here listening to your _crap. _Not like I was at an orgy getting my boy passed around by a couple of dudes half my age."

Spencer paled, looking horrified "Man, c'mon I don't need to hear that shit."

"What? Is something wrong? Does the idea of three consenting adult men having sexual relations _upset _you?"

Nora burst out laughing. She couldn't stop the crazed, whooping sounds issuing from her throat, the meth making her feel giddy. It seemed to be enough to diffuse the situation as both of the men seemed to visibly relax a bit.

"I need to check the garage," Trevor demanded.

"What? Why? The television is in here."

"Do you want me to fix your fucking tv or not, huh? You've already insulted me do you wanna tell me how to do my job too?"

"Alright, Jesus. Do what you gotta do."

Trevor gave him a look of disgust before leaving in the direction of the garage. He was only gone for about ten minutes when the cop started to look suspicious first glancing outside before starting after him.

Nora unhooked her bra and tossed it over his head before he could leave, stopping him in his tracks as he removed the frilly pink undergarment, holding it up in front of his face as if he didn't understand what he was seeing.

"Where's the booze at in this place?" she drawled. "Gotta get my fix, boys."

"Over there. Second shelf, there's some beers," Spencer choked out indicating the refrigerator sitting around the corner in the small kitchen connected to the living room.

She returned from the kitchen, rubbing the cold glass bottle all over her exposed breasts bringing up gooseflesh and making her nipples harden.

"Whew, shit, it is _so hot _tonight isn't it."

"Y-Yes. Yes it is." Spencer looked on the verge of an asthma attack. Nora wondered if he were still a virgin feeling nothing but disdain for the man. He had a smug superiority complex that no man in a shirt that goddamned ugly should be allowed to.

She sauntered over to the cop holding the beer out to him. "Could you open this for me, Officer?"

"Sure," he said, animatedly taking it from her. Maybe he was a virgin too since he was acting like he'd never seen tits before.

Thankfully, Trevor came back from the garage and she snatched her bra from the dumbfounded cop's still outstretched hand quickly pulling it back on.

"Looks like you're gonna have to call in someone else. Shit looks pre-tty bad, bro. Can't do anything for ya."

"What the fuck, dude! You haven't even looked at my tv!"

Spencer's outrage was nearly laughable, his face flushed crimson against the turquoise of his hideous shirt, his eyes bulging comically in disbelief.

Trevor was already out the door, however, banging it loudly shut.

"You gonna pay me or what 'cause I got to get going," Nora demanded, putting further pressure on Spencer's stress ulcer.

"_Pay you?_"

"Uh _yeah,_" she said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Coming to your house for a private dance ain't cheap, darlin'. It'll be one hundred and fifty dollars for the hour."

"One hundred and fifty? For what? I didn't even call you you crazy bitch and you spent most of the hour flirting with that fucking cable weirdo who didn't even fix my goddamn- no. You know what? Just take the fucking money and get the fuck out of my house. I've had enough of everyone. I'm going to bed."

* * *

Nora snickered counting out the money that Spencer had given her.

She was sitting in the van outside Michael's house with Trevor who was reading the papers he had taken from the safe. Nora wondered what time it was. The moon hung high and bloated overhead so maybe midnight?

Still plenty of time to get some sleep before meeting with Slick in the morning.

"Wasn't too strenuous on you was it, sweetheart?" Trevor said, seriously, looking up at her.

"No. Actually.. that was pretty fun." He seemed genuinely concerned for her, his expression worried. There were so many sides to Trevor that she couldn't even begin to understand him. All she knew was that he had been kind to her so far and she felt a deep affection for him growing inside her, something she hadn't felt for another human being in a long time.

Which was completely fucked up as she suffered no delusions about what kind of person he was.

"_Good_. That's _good,_" he replied.

"Guess I should go in before it gets any later."

Trevor made a sound of agreement "Mhm."

Before she could think to do otherwise, feeling emboldened by the meth, Nora kissed him gently on the corner of his mouth before she quickly departed.

**To be continued..**


End file.
